The world sometimes is too sharply defined, too dogmatically refined
While people are often far too entrenched, thirst for power unquenched
Sometimes the church bell tolls for the death of a soul while digging the hole
And oftentimes the dirge is played for the living, far too unforgiving
While other play freely in liberty, never minding those in self-captivity
For we are always free to chance, to gayly prance, to wildly dance
Without apologies or remorse to the entrenched for our chosen course